I'm Sorry
by blah-blah-217
Summary: A Fafaberry fic. Sort of a continuation to But You Hate Me? If you haven't read it you probably should before reading this. Thank you to anyone that does.


**Don't own anything. Let me know what you think.**

You raise the cigarette to your lips taking a long drag, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. It takes a few more drags before you really start to feel the effects of the nicotine but once you do you tip your head back, resting it on the hard, cold wall you are leaning against. Finally, the relaxed feeling you craved takes over you and you are free to fully appreciate where you are.

New York.

Skyscrapers tower over you, lights from windows shining like fireflies against the black backdrop of night. You can't see the stars like you can back in Ohio but the pretty lights almost make up for it. Below you, you can hear the sounds of the traffic that seems to be relentless in it's consistency. There's a slight breeze but it isn't uncomfortable, if anything it just adds to the chemically induced relaxed feeling you are experiencing.

As you bring the cigarette back to your lips you hear the glass door behind you slide open and close as someone steps out to join you.

"You're smoking now Quinn?" Charlie asks looking wholly disappointed in you.

"You caught me." You say, watching as little wisps of smoke follow each word before you exhale completely. "It's hardly the worst thing I've ever done." You flick some ash from the end of the cigarette, watching Charlie's eyes follow the little burst of embers to the ground.

She shakes her head before bringing her to back to you. "I never thought you were the type to smoke."

You let out a sardonic chuckle. "Yeah, well…there's a lot you don't know about me." Like the fact that you are in love with her girlfriend and worse that her girlfriend actually kissed you.

"I'm starting to realise that." Charlie mumbles bitterly. You watch as she turns as if to head back inside the hotel room to join the other but stops herself, instead choosing to stomp over to where you're standing. "Tell me why Quinn? Why would you do this?" She demands, looking a mixture of both angry and concerned.

You shrug. "Why not?"

"You mean beside the fact that it's cancer in a stick?" She retorts, her frustration at your nonchalant attitude clearly showing in her tone of voice and her demeanour. You don't give her an answer and it's your silence that pushes her over the edge. "Fine, don't answer. Pull the usual 'I'm Quinn, I'm going to sulk, brood and distance myself from everyone' crap you've been pulling since Prom. Look, I'll even join you…" Before you know it she's snatched the cigarette out of your hand.

You watch as she mimics your position, leaning against the wall and you watch her hand slowly move what is left of the cigarette to her own lips. "Don't do that." You panic, knocking the little white stick from her hand like the poison it is. You don't even see where it lands and you don't care…you're just glad it's gone.

"I guess smoking isn't all good and well when I'm the one doing it, huh?" She's giving you this triumphant smirk, pleased with herself for proving her point. It makes you feel embarrassed and ashamed at your own actions. You look away back to the skyscrapers and the pretty lights. You hear her push herself off the wall and move until she's standing in front of you again. "Tell me why it's okay for you to participate it something that's so damaging to your health and not me? Why do you care more about my health than your own?" She asks you softly, you feel her eyes boring into your face as if she's willing you with her stare to answer her questions.

You keep your gaze locked on the building just passed her shoulder. You can't bring yourself to look into the concerned and sincere face that is identical to your own because you know you will have a breakdown. "I don't know." You lie. You think more of her because although you may look the same, she is everything you'll never be. She's brave, caring, sweet and she has the one thing you want the most…she has Rachel. She was never afraid of the way she felt about the tiny brunette the way you were. She has only ever treated the girl like she was precious; something to be treasured the way you've always wanted to but never had the courage to actually do. Instead, you treated the songstress like crap, pushed her far away from you and constantly rejected her many offers at trying to be closer to you. You disgust yourself. That thought brings tears to your eyes.

"Aww, Quinn…" Her face crumples in sympathy and she hugs you. You immediately tense at the contact, keeping your arms still at your side as you fight to reign in your emotions. You refuse to cry over Rachel freakin' Berry especially in front of your sister. "Relax Quinnie. It is okay to feel and it is okay cry. Whatever you're feeling, whatever's hurting you like this…just let it out."

It's the tear that escapes from your eye that finally forces you into action. You angrily swipe it away, force you yourself out of her arms and move away from your sister that was unwittingly trying to comfort the girl that's in love with girlfriend. "It's really…it's not okay. I can't do the whole hug it out and have a big cry thing. Especially not with you." You say the last part before you can stop yourself.

"Why not?" She asks looking and sounding genuinely hurt, she look away guiltily. "I know I wasn't around when you needed someone before but I'm here now. I want to help you with this, please don't shut me out." She pleads, close to tears herself.

You have to close your eyes to fight the emotions of your heartbreak from overwhelming you. You are not going to ruin Charlie's happiness with Rachel by burdening her with your problems; you're not. You open your eyes and look her straight in the eye. "You can't help me with this…you just can't…" Your voice breaks and you swallow down a sob. "I'm sorry." Then you flee.

You slide open the glass door, practically run through the hotel room filled with the others preparing for Nationals and you don't stop until you an in the second, empty room with the door locked. You sit on the bed, grab the nearest pillow, bring it to your face and scream into it as tears run down your face. You are so unbelievably furious and broken right now. You're angry at yourself for losing control of your emotions, angry about the feelings that you harbour for Rachel that won't go away no matter what you do and you feel so broken and helpless about the whole situation you are in.

Your emotional meltdown is interrupted by banging on the door. "Quinn, it's Santana and Brittany, open up." You move the pillow from your face and stare at the door, staying quiet as possible. Hoping that if you stay quiet enough they'll just leave. No such luck, she starts beating on the door again. "Open the door Fabray or I'll break it down." You scoff and roll your eyes, she couldn't break down that door anymore than you could. "Seriously Q, I'm worried about you and so is Britt." You bite your lip but don't dare move to open the door. You can't deal with people right now, especially not Santana. You'll end up spilling everything in a matter of seconds and you can't have people finding out about this. "Ignore me all you wants to Quinn but I'm not leaving until you open this damn door."

"Fine." You huff. Standing, you scrub your face as best you can with your hands before you turn the lock and rip the door open. "Happy?" You drawl.

"Not really." Santana answers, eyeing you from the doorway. "From the looks of it you aren't either. You look like crap Fabray." She tells you bluntly as she barges passed you. You scowl at her back as she walks over to lean against the window sill.

The next thing you know you're being smothered by Brittany in a sneak hug attack. That's two hugs you've gotten in the space of ten minutes. "It hurts my heart to see you so broken Q." She tells you, tightening her hold around your shoulders.

"Thanks Brittany." You bring you arms up, resting your hands on her upper back. "I'm fine though." You lie.

"Bullshit. You're heartbroken and a mess…anyone can see that."

"Thanks Santana." You untangle yourself from Brittany and flop down on the bed, staring at the off white ceiling.

"What? Britts stop looking at me like that. Seriously, stop. All I meant was, Quinn needs to cut the crap and admit what the problem is so we can fix it."

"You can't fix this." You tell them.

"Why not?" Brittany asks curiously.

You look up at her and say, "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Why? What is so bad…" She gasps. "Fuck, Quinn you're not knocked up again?" She asks sounding on the verge of having a panic attack.

You lift your head to glare at her. "No!"

"Thank God." Her whole body sags with relief.

Brittany takes a seat next and starts fiddling with the comforter. "If it isn't that you're pregnant than can you tell us what the problem is? You've been looking super uber sad for a while now and it makes me super uber sad to see you like that."

"Brittany please…" You start as you sit up. "Don't feel bad because of me. I'm fine. I can deal with this alone."

Santana sighs and sits down on you're other side. "You don't have to deal with whatever this is alone. And if you're worried about anyone finding out about this, don't be. Whatever is said in this room stays in this room."

"You mean that?" You ask her sceptically.

"I totes swear it."

"Plus, Quinn…you might not want to talk about it but I think you need to. Whatever it is, bottling it up won't do any good. It will just keep building up and building up until you explode. Like when you shake up a champagne bottle."

She's right. Brittany's right. You do need to talk about it. This whole thing…it's eating you up inside. You're not sure it will help but on the off chance that it might, you're willing to let it out. You take a deep breath, trying to work up the nerve. "I did something really stupid…" You say and feel the first prickle of tears. "I fell in love and I was…God, I was such a coward. I should've told them how I felt or at least done something, but I didn't. I screwed up so monumentally badly and now…now she's with someone else. My twin sister…"

"Woah." Santana cuts you off. "_She_? And _she_ is dating your sister? Are you talking about _Berry_?" She asks looking completely shell shocked.

"Yes." You bury your head in your hands. "It's so screwed up."

"Yeah." Santana mumbles absentmindedly. "I mean…Na, I've got nothing. It's screwed up."

"Right." Brittany agrees with her.

You lift your head up and wipe away a tear. "I don't know what I'm even doing anymore. It hurt so bad to see them at Prom. Seeing Rachel with anyone hurt but seeing her with Charlie was just _that_ much worse y'know?" They nod along but you can tell they don't have a clue. Brittany's hugging your side as if she could hug the hurt away and Santana's rubbing your back because she doesn't want else to do. "But I was dealing with it because I thought Rachel wouldn't ever want me anyway. Why would she after the way I've treated her?" You sniff and wipe your nose. "But then she found the photo album and she kissed me. She kissed me a-and she destroyed me. She broke me into to little pieces with that kiss and I can't put myself back together. She took a piece of me and I can't get it back. Whenever I'm around her or think about her…God, it feels like I can't breathe. There's this huge crushing weight pressing on my chest making it so I can't breathe and it's…Killing me…"

You stop when you hear someone bump against the wall opposite the room and all eyes turn to see none other than Rachel Berry bracing herself against it. Her eyes are wide and filled with tears. Her right hand is covering her mouth as she tries to hold back a sob. When she notices all of you staring at her she removes her hand. "Charlie was worried and asked me to check…" Her eyes dart around wildly before finally landing on you. "I'm so sorry Quinn." And then she's gone.


End file.
